A loud electronic voice pierces my brain. “Now serving A534, that’s A534, thank you.”
Zach stands and heads out through the doors. He marches confident and strong, like I would expect.
A tap on my shoulder causes me to lurch.
“You’re next,” Elliott says.
What did I do to deserve waiting with this guy? “Yeah.”
“Can you really do it?”
“Do what?”
“Live not knowing, not seeing what could be.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
He’s puzzled.
“Let’s say you go through those doors and become an Unsound. And you get locked away from your family and friends for your entire life. Tell me you won't wonder what a normal life could be.”
Elliott leans in. “You talk as if you know an Unsound.”
I nod. “My dad.”
He turns his head away from me. “I’m sorry.”
Typical reaction. They think it’s sympathy, but it’s fear. As much as everyone talks about genetics not factoring in and your parents not determining your powers, having an Unsound in the family is mark of shame. Most don’t discuss it. The only person in my high school that knows is Aaron. After the torture thrown at me in middle school, the last thing I want to do is let anyone know.
The exit door stands to my left. I want to bolt, want to get out of this place, but something keeps me glued to my chair.
“Rose. I know you’re scared. But if you leave now, you won’t get another chance.”
He’s right. With millions of kids involved, getting another appointment is near impossible. I would end up with the other Basics. I stare at the screen, willing the phoenix not to fly by again.
“Rose. Think about this.”
“You think I haven’t? It’s all I’ve thought for years. I’m not like you, or the other kids here. You sit there, blindly waiting for your number to be called, trusting everything will be—“
“You don't know me at all.” For the first time, there’s terror in Elliott’s face. He turns back to watch the screen.
“So you’re scared too, then.”
Did he feel as helpless as I did?
Elliott takes a deep breath. “I can't control which system I was born in. I can only control how I cope with it.”
“That's the only power you think you have?” I ask.
“It’s the only power any of us have. Anything else is an illusion.”
My heart jolts as the phoenix flies by and displays my number. The mechanical voice cuts through me. “Now serving A535. That's A535. Thank you.”
I’m still. Trapped between two worlds. Somehow, none of the thinking, the planning, or the debating have prepared me for this moment. Elliott stands and tries to nudge me out of my chair. I won’t move. I’ll wait here. If they want me so bad, they can drag me through those doors. A part of me wishes they would. The exit is a few steps away.
“Rose, please!” His blue eyes pleads with me.
Blue eyes. Like Dad’s.
No.
I can’t surrender. I stand up and storm towards the exit.
“Rose! You know what will happen if you don't.” I have no idea what will happen, regardless of my decision. Neither does Elliott.
I turn back to him. “Best of luck.”
The exit doors lay a few steps away. Pushing through them means leaving GEMO behind forever. No going back. I kick them open and leave the room behind.
I will never be a mutant. Never.
CHAPTER THREE
The Center must be designed to disorient visitors on purpose. Between the matching hallways and furniture, it’s impossible to find anything. Of course, I doubt many kids bail on them at the last minute. As I turn down yet another hallway, I finally see the exit doors. A row of posters flashes by my side and one catches my eye with its bright letters:
Hidden? No longer.
The powers buried within me will remain a mystery. I’m sure it’s the right decision. Mostly sure. About as much as I can expect. My mind wanders to the futures of those I left behind. Zach, Lillia, Shelly. What will happen to them?
And Elliott?
The more I think about him, the more a curiosity begins to form. What will his power be? Why do I care so much? My mind keeps racing until it occurs to me to check the Reunion Room. The nearest screen shows Elliott’s exit location. Wing F. I’ll join his and everyone else’s families and wait for his arrival. I hope everyone is happy with their powers.
***
Hoards of families pack Wing F. It’s a bit like an airline terminal, except here, being “delayed” means a whole lot more than not getting to New York on time. You can almost see the stuffy air, trapped by the narrow walls and low ceilings. Some parents pace while others keep a sharp eye on the large screen in the corner, their lifeline to their children’s fate. Every few minutes, a scurry happens when a bell chimes and the statuses update. In the opposite side, younger kids fight over a tiny slide, the one source of entertainment in what is supposed to pass as a play area.
I pity the kids. Last time I sat in a room like this, I waited for my aunt. feeling bored senseless. Especially after Mom snatched some crayons away from me out of fear I’d mark up something.
DING!
The room is silent. A wave of energy sweeps the room as everyone focuses on the status screen. It flashes a phoenix flying by and updates some of the members.
A533, A535 – Cancelled
There’s a gasp from the room. Cancellations are rare, and usually mean you were diagnosed with a life threatening disease or something. Few would choose to be a Basic nowadays.
I wonder what Shelly is doing right now.
DING!
The screen updates again.
A534 – Stable
I breathe a sigh of relief for Zach.
A man with the build of an overfed football player pumps his fist into the air. “Told ya he’d get his status fast! Knew he had it in him!”
It’s Zach’s father. Fast statuses usually mean a desired ability. The quicker you can tell, the more obvious the ability. With few exceptions, obvious abilities equal the most marketable. Even a freakish ability can earn one fame through television or live performances. Maybe Zach will be a Jumper.
DING!
The screen updates again. The crowd rustles and I force a peak through an elbow to see the next group of statuses. A507, A508, A513, A515, A516, A518, A519, A520, A524, A527, A528, A532 all show “undetermined.”
Poor Lillia.
The dozens of anxious parents moan and sigh. Based on the numbers, some of them have been here for hours, waiting to hear if their children are destined for greatness or will scrape by like everyone else. I can’t help but overhear a woman next to me. She’s caressing her husband’s back, his face buried in his hands.
“You didn’t discover your ability until you lost your arm. Lillia will be fine George.”
George struggles with his words. “She deserves more. More than me. Waiting ten years, watching others run, swim, fly. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
Their eyes stay fixed on the screen, holding back tears, staying strong for each other. I follow their lead and turn to the screen. I can’t imagine how they must feel. Anyone could go mad waiting in a stifling room like this, listening to the blend of easy listening music and whining kids.
Elliott’s number still isn’t up. I can’t say why I’m so concerned. We just met. But he’d been so happy. He deserves to be rewarded by a system he defended so strongly.
DING!
The screen flashes again. A536. Lungs tightening, I scan over to his status:
Undetermined
Crap.
My shoulders fall. After the excitement, Elliott is going to be at best average. At worst a Lesser.
A voice comes over the loudspeaker system, interrupting a calm saxophone solo. “Attention please! GEMO subjects A505-A536 will receive a 15-minute break. Undetermined subjects should
remain behind the safety line.”
When my aunt received her treatment, I became very acquainted with the safety line. The line meant danger. She had to stay behind where we couldn’t hug or even touch. I panicked that she would be taken away like Dad. In the end, a power didn’t turn up, and they released her. She refused to say much to us after that day. I’m not even sure where she lives now.
The doors open and a group of GEMO subjects exit. The stable subjects hurry beyond the safety line and into the arms of their parents. The burly man scoops Zach into a bear hug, which jostles his jacket open, revealing his new wings. Feathers of blue and orange accent his dark skin beautifully.
“Wow, Son! Give ‘em a good flap!” he says.
Hard to believe the quiet student next to me in History class is now a Flier. I shake my head. Now girls everywhere will chase him like a rock star. This is the crazy world of GEMO.
Zach blushes and closes his jacket tight as if undressed. “Dad! I still have to go to training. Until then, no wings.”
“Fine,” the father says. Then he leans down and whispers, “I know a quiet field where we can practice.”
Probably making plans to train at night at Fowler’s Grove. I catch novice Fliers practicing at night when I go out to see the glowdaisies. They pick a few to use as beacons since their light is visible from the air.
Subjects keep pouring out of the doorway. Stable ones come first. They race and skip into the waiting room. Next, come the cautious steps of the Undetermined.
“You’re doing great, Lillia!” George calls out to his daughter, a girl with flowing black hair and smoky eyes.
She manages a little wave, but it’s clear she’s not having a good day. Behind her, a boy in a chocolate fedora inches out. He stands right behind the safety line.
“Elliott!” I call out.
An older woman staggers over to meet him. I’m not sure what I’m doing here. This is a time for families to get together. Share hugs, exchange tears. I don’t even know him that well. I’m about to leave when he waves me over. As I walk towards him, the woman steps right over the line and wraps him in her arms.
“Grandma,” he says. “You’re supposed to stay over the line.”
She laughs. “And what do you suppose they’ll do, shoot me? At my age, I can afford to take my chances. Don’t need them telling me what to do.”
After a quick squeeze, he breaks the hug and gestures towards me. “Grandma, this is Rose. I met her in line.”
Her face lights up. “Met her in line? And out already? You must be one of the lucky ones.”
She gives me a wink.
I feel pale. “No I—”
“She’s undetermined,” Elliott says. “Like me.”
“Don’t let that get you down. Abilities emerge late sometimes. But you know that,” she says.
Elliott sighs. “Only hope I’m not stuck here for weeks.”
“How long did it take for your uncle?” I ask.
“My uncle?”
“The Spitter.”
Elliott frowns. “I thought we moved on from that.”
“Elliott. You didn’t tell her about Uncle Hubert did you?” his grandmother asks.
“Yeah, it, he, it came up, ok?” he says.
I want to curl up into a ball.
His grandmother puffs up her chest. “You did make sure to mention your parents and the tremendous success they achieved, right? I’m sure Elliott has the same Ford family potential. Hubert always was a pesky little scrawny thing.”
“Grandma,” he says.
“Sorry dear, but I’m an honest woman. He was so pitiful a ceiling fan could knock him over.”
“Grandma, do you need to—”
“None of us were entirely surprised when he turned out, how shall I say, disappointing? But there’s a failed bud in every rose bush. That’s why I told you, Elliott, ‘Stop worrying. You aren’t going to end up a Lesser.’”
Elliott face indicates he’d rather be anywhere else. “Grandma!”
A monotone voice silences the room. “Attention please! We ask that all Undetermined please return to the test centers at this time. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Elliott smiles, probably relieved to be getting out of this conversation. “Ok, test time.”
“And you too, my dear,” says his grandmother, nudging me over the line. “Walking right over the line indeed, I like your spunk.”
I fight against her push, but Elliott tucks his arm under my elbow and leads me to the other side.
“I don’t need to—”
“Oh don’t be so modest. Rose says she’s sure of her power. But we need to learn it officially first.”
“I’m not.”
Everyone around me glares back. If I bolt, they’ll think an Undetermined stormed out. It could create a panic. To them I could be an Unsound or something. I decide to let Elliott escort me into the hallway.
“What was that about?” I ask as we head down a narrow hallway.
He stops, letting the other kids pass.
“Don’t you see?”
“What?”
“This is your chance. Tell them you were in the bathroom or something-”
Elliott grabs my arm, trying to lead me to the treatment room. I pull away. “No.”
“You can’t want to be a—”
He goes silent.
“What? Can’t want to be a what?”
Elliott looks away. “Don’t you understand? My grandmother is desperate to unlock an ability. And here you go walking away. And in a few years, where will you be?”
“I wonder what your grandmother will say if you find out your power is spraying ink.”
“That’s not what’s going to happen.”
“Right. It couldn’t happen to you. You’re like everyone else, Elliott. Act all modest. Deep down hoping you’ll get some big power.”
He starts to walk away. “Goodbye.”
“Maybe you’ll get the ability to spew foul smelling spray from your butt. I think I saw that on that show, My Ability Stinks.”
His face gets red. “Rose!”
“Or maybe you won’t get anything? Elliott, a failed bud.”
I stand there, panting, horrified by my own words. He clenches his fists. If I were a man, he’d have decked me by now. His eyes widen. There’s a bright flash of blue.
SMACK!
My body hits the ground hard. There’s a tingling sensation all over. My head throbs with a rhythmic pulse.
Elliott’s voice shudders. “Are you ok?”
“Stay back.” I crawl away from him on the floor.
I’m not sure what happened. I hadn’t felt his hands on me. A strange jolt knocked me over that I can’t describe. It surged through my body. Picking myself off the floor, the stinging pain fades. A surge of adrenaline brings an urge to run from my attacker. “Do you have some sort of electric spark?”
His horrified face reveals he’s as confused as I am. “I didn’t t-t-touch you. Besides, they tested me for electricity.”
“You have something, that’s for sure.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t, I had no—”
“No. I’m sorry,” I say, walking over to him. “I shouldn’t have been such a jerk.”
“You didn’t knock me to the floor.”
My balance still isn’t normal. I start to fall over and he catches me. I jump back instinctively. “I wonder what that power is. Get them to focus on your hands. Could be good when you get it figured out.”
“Hope so. I don’t exactly want to go around zapping people to the floor,” Elliott says.
I flash him a smile. “You could always join the Xtreme Power Warriors. You’d be a ratings bonanza.”
Elliott smirks. “Don’t think anyone would want to see me in a tight spandex outfit.”
We laugh.
After a moment, I remember where I am. “Ummm, is there any way for me to sneak out of here without someone worrying why I’m back here?”
E
lliott pauses. “You really aren’t going to do it are you?”
I shake my head.
“Since you cancelled, the system has you as done for the day, so you should be able to leave any exit. There’s one down that hallway to the right.”
“Thanks.” Before I reach the exit, I stop myself to turn and wave goodbye. A part of me wishes he would have had given his phone number, or that I would have been brave enough to ask for it.
After a few turns, I reach a long hallway. A figure stops and glares over at me. Mom. I haven’t seen her so upset since they took Dad from us. She runs out and hugs me.
“We were looking for you everywhere! I-I can’t believe it. Why were you cancelled?” Her watery eyes cut into mine and she finds the answer. She starts crying again. “How could you do this?”
“Mom, I won’t talk about it. Not here anyway.”
She breaks off the hug. Her voice is louder now. “We will talk about it.”
I gesture my head to show Mom the gathering group of people eavesdropping on our conversation. “Mom. Just take me home.”
After I make it clear there is no way I can convince them to let me back in the line now, she caves. Now to brace myself for the long ride home.
***
When I get to my room, all I want to do is snuggle in blankets and cocoon away from the world. Away from mutants. Away from Elevation Day.
The ceiling of my room glows with my father’s stars. They fade as my exhausted eyes close shut. The room is quiet and there are no distractions from needed sleep. Nothing except Mr. Roberts fidgeting in his desk chair in the next room. He always squirms around. Drives me crazy. I’m trying to fall asleep, but Mr. Roberts begins scratching his stomach. I groan as he moves his hand towards his back and further down. Doesn’t he realize I can see him? Why is his light still off?
I spring up, knocking over the pot of African violets. Mr. Roberts isn’t in my room. He’s in the room next door. Somehow, I can sense what’s going on. Like shadows in my mind. But I can see it. I could recognize Mr. Roberts’s shadow anywhere.
But how are these images in my head? I take a deep breath. A loud bark comes from the hallway. It’s Atom, Mr. Roberts’s pet poodle. Atom growls at the door, pawing at it to get inside. I’m not going to let him in. Atom loves my ankles. I had to start keeping my door shut to avoid getting gnawed on at night. It’s hard covering up bite marks on your ankles. Wearing high socks to school makes you an easy prey for teasing.
Elevated (Book 1): Elevated Page 3